


How can I hurt when I'm holding you?

by lecastellet



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Awkward Flirting, Ballet, Crushes, Eating Disorders (Mentioned), Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Insecurity, M/M, Male Ballet Dancer, Mild Language, ballet dancers, this was supposed to be cute and fluffy yet everything is just going downhill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-07-12 07:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15990626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecastellet/pseuds/lecastellet
Summary: Pierre is nervous about his first ballet lesson, but luckily he's not the only guy there. Charles Leclerc, a Monegasque ballet trainee helps the Frenchman improve his technique, and in return, he receives the support for his dreams like he never had before.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you! Thanks for taking time out of your day to read this. This is my 100th attempt at writing a (small) series, I hope you enjoy the story! 
> 
> x

“No, I’m not going!” Pierre shouted at his mother. She sighed and folded her arms in his doorway. 

“Come on Pierrot, this will be good for you. You need to get some exercise and you said it yourself, it will make you so happy!” She smiled and reached her hand out so she could pull the stubborn teenager out of his bed. He sighed and reached up for his mother’s hand and got up. 

“But I look stupid,” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t gotten any ballet attire yet because he wasn’t sure what to get in the first place. He had pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants, black ankle socks and a plain white t-shirt an hour before. 

“You look fine chérie, now come on or you’ll be late.” His mum ran her hand through his hair, getting a small groan in response.

He got in the passenger's seat of his mum's car and typed in the address on the navigation system. The computer-generated female voice guided them towards their destination. Pierre grabbed his water bottle from the cup holder and said his mum goodbye. 

“Good luck, je t’aime. I’ll be back here in this spot in an hour, okay?” His mother smiled and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“Bye!” The young boy sighed and stumbled out of the car and closed the door. He nervously fixed his shirt and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants before walking into the studio. He pushed one of the heavy glass doors open and entered the small building. It smelled like sweat and air freshener, or it could be women’s deodorant as well, he could never really tell the difference. 

He checked the clock on the wall on the right of the hallway, he was exactly on time. He followed the signs that said ‘studio’ and heard a bunch of high-pitched voices giggling behind another glass door. He took a deep breath and pulled it open. He sighed upon the sight of about fifteen girls in black leotards with matching black skirts and soft pink tights. It seemed like he was the only boy there. He was about to turn back around and wait an hour in the changing room until he heard heavier footsteps jogging towards him. His head turned to see what approached him, and what he saw was just what he was hoping for. 

A boy, who was slightly shorter than him approached. He had soft chocolate hair, pushed back out of his face and bright green eyes. Pierre blinked a few times and looked at him as he came closer. 

“Hey, you must be new here. Are you joining our class today?” The boy asked and smiled. Pierre’s eyes widened slightly, there was no going back now. 

“Uh, I-I.. yeah. It’s my first time here.” He replied, his voice more quiet than usual. The other boy smiled at him, he even had dimples. 

“Come on, we should hurry. We’re already late.” He replied and walked into the small studio. The teacher snapped her head at the two boys and gave them a deadly stare.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re late. Those barres aren’t going to carry themselves to the center, are they now? Chop chop!” She clapped and added two checkmarks on the attendance sheet, completing the class attendance. The shorter boy went over to the barres in the storage corner and Pierre followed shyly. 

“Pierre Gasly,” The teacher said, coldly. Pierre quickly turned his head towards her and felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “My name is Mrs. Williams, care to introduce yourself properly? Where are your manners?” She said. Pierre turned around and shyly went over to her. 

“I’m sorry miss, my name is Pierre and it’s my first time here.” the Frenchman spoke. Some of the girls giggled in the background, making him feel even worse about everything. How did that other guy fit in so much more than him? He felt insecure about his baggy outfit, he was definitely the worst one in the studio, he hadn’t ever tried any type of dance before in his life. The teacher nodded, the other boy had finished putting the bars in the center of the studio with the help of some of the girls. 

“All to the barre!” The teacher called and scrolled through her iPod for the right music. “Let’s start with plies, Pierre, go stand behind Charles and try to follow along.”

Pierre nodded quickly. “Yes, miss.” This was a recipe for disaster, he could feel it. He had no clue what a plie even was or how to even do one. Was he going to fall? Was he going to hit the other boy, who apparently was called Charles in the face and break his nose?

He took the back spot at the barre behind Charles and tried to copy his position the best he could. The teacher pressed play and beautiful, soft piano music filled the studio through the speakers. Charles moved gracefully. Pierre had no idea how he even got his feet to turn out that way or how he was able to bend his knees so beautifully. He felt like a newborn deer trying to stand for the first time, he grasped the barre tightly to keep his balance. This was harder than he expected it to be. On top of that, there were arm movements as well, which synced exactly with the knee-bending, or plies, as the teacher called them.

The music stopped abruptly. “Non, non, non!” The teacher shook her head and walked over to Pierre. Suddenly, her hand was on his lower back, pushing his butt in and fixing his shoulders. “Be aware of your posture Pierre, don’t stick your derriere out, you look like a camel.” The girls laughed, and he even caught Charles with a suppressed smile on his face. He felt like he was going to cry. He couldn’t even get one thing right. “Don’t force your knees to go out that far, keep them like this.” She moved his feet in the correct position. “Tighten the muscles in your abdomen and keep your derriere tucked in. Hold this posture the entire time, understand?” She stared him right into the soul. Pierre nodded, trying his best to hold back his tears and keep this terribly uncomfortable posture the entire time.

After the class, Pierre quickly went into the guy’s dressing room and dropped his head into his hands. He never thought he would ever have to push his muscles this far. He was exhausted. He could feel the muscles in his thighs shaking. 

Charles entered the dressing room a few seconds later. “You’ll get there, don’t worry.” He tried to reassure the other boy. “Pierre, isn’t it?” He smiled cheekily and stuck his hand out towards the Frenchman. Pierre nodded and shook his hand. “I’m Charles, nice to meet you.”

“Is it always this horrible?” Pierre asked. Charles laughed and took a sip out of his water bottle. 

“Not always, but everyone has bad days sometimes.” He explained. “Like I said, don’t worry too much, yeah? You’ll get there one day.”

Pierre sighed. “Yeah, that’s easy for you to say, you don’t have the balance and hand-eye coordination of a tower made of spaghetti and marshmallows.” 

Charles smiled and sat down beside Pierre. “No one is born good at ballet, I’ve been doing this since I was five years old.” He explained. “I know how you feel though, I was worse than anyone in my class for a long time. It’s not easy to keep going and keep up with the rest, you just need to find your own motivation to keep going and keep improving.” 

Pierre glanced over at the other boy, quickly looking away again when they made eye contact. “Why did you keep practicing when you didn’t feel like you were good enough?”

“My dreams.” He simply replied. “I’ve wanted to become a principal dancer for Les Ballets de Monte-Carlo for as long as I can remember. I won’t be able to achieve that without hard work.” 

Pierre felt reassured, maybe he’d feel more confident too. Charles did have a good point, he just had to find his reason to keep up. 

“How about I help you work on your technique?” Charles offered. “I mean, I’m not perfect at it either but I could surely help you practice the basics if you’re signing up for the class.” Pierre hesitated, he wasn’t sure if he was going to sign up just yet, he needed some time to consider other physical activities too. 

“I don’t know..” Pierre sighed. “Yet.”, he then quickly added. He didn’t want to disappoint Charles either. He’d been really nice to him, but he didn’t feel comfortable around the girls at all. 

“You know what?” Charles started and reached over into his bag. He tore a piece of paper out of his notebook and grabbed a pen to scribble down his phone number. “Let me know when you make up your mind.” 

Pierre took the piece of paper and slid it into the pocket of his sweatpants. “Thank you.” He smiled slightly before getting up to go back home. 

“See you next week,” Charles said, purposely not really giving Pierre a choice but to sign up.

“Hi, angel!” His mum smiled brightly after opening the passenger seat door for her son. “How was your class?” She asked. “Tell me all about it.” 

“It was fun,” Pierre replied, smiling out the window for most of the ride home.


	2. Chapter 2

When his mum parked the car in the driveway in front of their house, Pierre quickly jogged into the house. He first stopped by the kitchen to grab a bottle of juice from the fridge, then ran up the stairs into his room, skipping every other step. He needed a shower badly as he smelled like sweat, but he then quickly took the small piece of paper Charles tore out of his notebook that had his phone number on it and entered it into his contact list after sitting down on the edge of his bed. He smiled when his profile picture popped up on the messaging app but decided to wait a little while before texting him. Maybe it was a good idea to print out the application form first.

He put his phone down onto his bedside table and pulled out his laptop from underneath his bed. He put it down on his lap and opened it up, the bright light from the screen nearly blinding him. He typed the dance studio’s name into the Google search bar and found his way towards their website where he found the application form. He connected his laptop to the printer and pressed the print button. His printer could, for some reason, always tell when he was in a bit of a rush, so it decided to take twenty minutes to print the single document. The Frenchman couldn’t bother waiting all that long, so he decided to take a shower in the meantime.

He had made it back into his room right on time. The document had just finished printing. He took it out of the printer and laid it on his desk so he could wait for the ink to fully dry, after all, he didn’t feel like getting a comment on it made by his teacher. Pierre changed into a clean shirt and another pair of sweatpants, the ones he usually slept in. He roughly dried his hair with the towel and threw it on the floor when he was done using it. He took a deep breath and sat at his desk, ready to fill in the form. Was he really going to sign up for these damn ballet classes?

And damn right he was. He filled in the document and left it in his mother’s room to sign. He knew she was going to be proud of him for signing up.

He went back into his room and sat down on his bed, his back facing the wall. Pierre took his phone out again and typed a message to the Monegasque boy.

‘Hey, guess who just finished filling in the application form? :-)’

He hit send and stared at the message for a few seconds. Maybe he should have thought about the content of the message before sending it so impulsively. Suddenly, three dots inside of a text bubble popped up on the screen, indicating that Charles was typing up a message. Pierre panicked and quickly hit his phone’s lock button before sliding it underneath his covers so he couldn’t see when the screen lit up indicating he had a new notification. 

Unfortunately, he had forgotten to turn off the sound on his phone. He heard a muffled tone coming from underneath the covers. He waited for about 10 seconds, trying not to come off as impatient or creepy, but then failed to contain himself and quickly grabbed his phone from underneath his covers. He typed in his passcode and opened the message.  
‘Who’s this?’

Pierre reread the message he had sent and realized he didn’t even sign with his name, stupid, stupid. He quickly typed up a response. Did Charles even give him the right phone number? His profile picture matched the face he had seen today, so it should have been the right one. 

‘Oops, It’s Pierre from ballet class today, sorry!’ The Frenchman sent back. The three dots popped up again.

‘Hey! Ah, sorry about that. Good for you! :D. have you made up your mind about the tutoring yet? I’m available on Tuesday if that’s okay with you.’ Charles wrote. Pierre’s heart skipped a beat and he could feel a bright smile appearing on his face. He didn’t forget.

Pierre checked his calendar, he finished school at 3 pm that day and didn’t have any activities planned for after. He typed up another reply.

‘I’m free any time after 3 pm, is that okay with you?’ He sent back. Charles went online for a few seconds and then went offline again. Pierre waited impatiently for his reply, but it still hadn’t come after 10 minutes. 10 minutes became 30, 30 minutes became an hour. Pierre eventually gave up and put his phone away. Did he say something wrong? Maybe he was just busy.

Right as Pierre put his phone away, ready to go to sleep, his phone vibrated. He quickly turned it over and looked at the screen. ‘1 new message from ‘Charles’ ” It read. he tapped the notification and read the message.

‘I’ll see you at 4 pm at the studio then :). Also, it might be good for you to get proper ballet attire, you can get a black pair of tights (black, just check the men's section), a white shirt and black soft shoes from here’ 

Pierre quickly wrote the date and time in his calendar. Another message popped up, it was a link to a webshop. He opened the website and scrolled through many different ballet leotards, shirts, tights, and shoes. He spent the rest of the evening collecting the basics into his basket and placed the order. Hopefully, they’d arrive in time before they could practice together. 

On that Tuesday afternoon, Pierre arrived at the studio a few minutes early, Charles hadn’t arrived yet. He sat down on the half wall near the entrance and waited in the cold breeze for the Monegasque to show up. 15 minutes later, there was still no sign of Charles. Pierre could start to feel his heart sink in his chest. Had he gotten the date wrong? He checked the text message and his calendar, but the dates matched up. Maybe he had just forgotten? He probably had better things to do than teach world’s most awful dancer the basics of ballet. Just as he was about to leave, he spotted Charles running towards the entrance from the corner of his eye. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” Charles said, out of breath from running. “The bus got stuck underneath a tunnel and we had to walk the rest of the way-” He explained, but Pierre interrupted him. 

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” He tried to reassure him.

“Did you get the proper attire?” Charles asked as they walked into the studio together.

The Frenchman nodded. “Yeah, it was more expensive than I thought it was going to be.” He laughed slightly. Charles smiled in response and gave the canteen employee a coin before grabbing a water bottle from the drinks cooler. 

They then walked into the men’s dressing room together. Pierre dropped his bag onto the small bench and took off his hoodie and sweatpants to reveal the uniform underneath. He felt extremely awkward with the tights, he wondered how Charles was able to just walk around in them comfortably around the studio. He slipped off his socks and slid his ballet shoes on and waited for Charles to finish changing. The younger guy finished changing and turned around. He looked at Pierre and swallowed. 

“You eh- you look good!” He did his best to reassure the older boy and smiled at him. Pierre was clearly very insecure about wearing the tights. “Hey, don’t worry. You’ll get used to them.” Charles patted his shoulder and grabbed his water bottle. “You ready?” He asked.

Pierre nodded and got up before following Charles into the studio.


	3. Chapter 3

Pierre followed Charles into the empty studio. The Monegasque hit the light switch to turn the lights on and pushed the curtains away from the freshly cleaned mirrors. 

“We can use the barre by the wall,” Charles said as he walked back to the audio system to hook up his phone. “Do you remember the plié exercise we did in class?” He asked. Pierre shook his head in response.

“I don’t even know how to do a plié...” Pierre sighed and walked over to the barre. Charles gave him a soft smile and walked towards him.

“Oh, you’ll be fine.” Charles tried to reassure him and helped him with his posture. Pierre didn’t expect him to be as touchy as their teacher, but he figured out it was necessary in order to put every limb in the right place as he explained proper technique. 

 

About 45 minutes later after Charles helped Pierre practice over and over again, he kind of figured out the basic positions and moves. Of course, he still didn’t understand completely, but he certainly improved. His muscles were shaking with fatigue and he was completely drenched in sweat. However, Pierre wasn’t even close to being satisfied with his progress. 

“I can’t even do a proper tendu!” He said, extremely frustrated with his level of body coordination. “I swear to god I’m completely useless, look at you, you’re a master of ballet and I have the fucking coordination of a headless chicken, I cannot believe.” He sighed. 

Charles gave him a comforting smile and put his hand on Pierre’s shoulder. “Hey, hey... Calm down. Take a deep breath.” Pierre frowned and looked up from his feet and made eye contact with the Monegasque for a couple of seconds. He looked back down at his feet and took a deep breath. 

“Sorry..” Pierre whispered and nibbled on his bottom lip trying to control the expression of his emotions. He didn’t feel like having a breakdown in front of Charles, after all, they barely even knew each other.

“It’s okay, don’t worry too much about it. You’ve only had a single class before this and ballet is really, really difficult. Even I haven’t perfected every single move, and I still have to practice nearly every day in order to become stronger. I don’t think I can name one ballet dancer who isn’t insecure about their performance in the sport.” He said and softly rubbed his thumb over the older boy’s shoulder before pulling his arm back. 

“You’re insecure about your performance too?” Pierre asked shyly and looked back at Charles making short eye contact before quickly looking away again. Charles nodded. “But you’re some sort of ballet god, you have nothing to be insecure about.” He added.

Charles laughed. “Oh no, I’m certainly not. There are many dancers waaaaay better than me. I still have a long way to go.” He replied. “Why don’t you take a little break? Sit for a few minutes, drink some water, calm down, okay?” He added and smiled. Pierre nodded and headed to the hard wooden bench. 

“Do you mind if I practice my solo for a few minutes? I have a competition in a couple of days.” He said, suddenly seeming quite nervous. 

“Yeah, of course!” Pierre replied and took a sip of his water. Charles walked over to the audio box and selected the song from his phone. Pierre watched, completely astonished by the magical movements. He could feel goosebumps rise on his arms as he watched the younger boy melt together with the emotion and beauty of the piece of music. He didn’t think he’d ever seen something that impressive in his life. Charles finished the routine and stopped the music. He walked back to the bench to take a sip of water.

“That… That was amazing, holy shit man!” Pierre said, excitedly. Charles’ cheeks flushed in an instant as he smiled brightly.

“Really?” He looked at Pierre. “Thank you.” He smiled more. 

“You’re going to smash everyone at the competition with that, you literally blew me away.” Pierre continued. Charles quickly turned around to hide his burning red cheeks and scrolled through his phone.

“T-thanks..” He stuttered slightly. “Can you maybe record it for me?” He asked. “I want to see if I make any stupid mistakes that are going to cost me points.” 

Pierre nodded and jumped up from the bench. He grabbed his phone and opened the camera app. “How would you like me to record it?” He asked.

“Just stand in the back corner right there and record it through the mirror so you can see both my backside and frontside,” Charles explained and pointed at the spot in the corner. Pierre nodded in response and moved his way into the corner. 

“Ready?” Pierre asked and smiled at Charles through the camera’s view on his phone. Charles gave Pierre a thumbs up and hit play on his phone, quickly getting into position before the music started. He performed his routine once more and Pierre did his best to capture all of it perfectly, which was pretty much impossible as the beauty and emotion the Monegasque was showing through his performance were never going to capture on video properly. 

Charles finished his routine and took a few deep breaths. He too was getting sweaty at this point. Pierre didn’t blame him, the air conditioning barely helped and the routine looked insanely difficult and exhausting. “Do you want to go over the basics once more?” Charles breathed out and glanced over at the Frenchman. Pierre shook his head.

“No, thanks.”

He then realized he was still recording. He quickly pressed the stop button and looked back up at Charles. “I’ll send it to you when I get home?” The pitch of his voice raised at the end of the sentence.

Charles smiled and nodded. “Sure. You did well today.”

Pierre could feel his cheeks flush and quickly looked away. “O-oh eh- thank you.” He squeaked.

“Let’s head back, I think another class is about to start. Do you have a ride home?” He asked. Pierre shook his head, but then quickly nodded.

“I- eh, no, but yeah. There’s a bus that stops near my house.” He hesitated.

“I can drive you home if you’d like.” Charles offered.

“I’m sure you have better things to do with your day, I can take the bus, it’s fine I promise!” Pierre tried to convince him. 

“No, I mean it. It’s okay! I’m sure you don’t really like the bus.” Charles replied, causing Pierre to laugh slightly.

“Yeah, okay. I guess you’re right.” Pierre smiled softly. He did hate the bus, but it was a great way to get around when his mum wasn’t there to drive him. 

Charles cheered in response. “Alright!” He said and grabbed his stuff from the bench. He walked out of the studio towards the dressing room, Pierre following closely behind.

They didn’t speak much in the dressing room, but the silence was very comfortable. Charles took off his shirt and tights and dug up his towel from the bottom of his dance bag. “Mind if I take a quick shower?” He asked.

Pierre did his best not to look but couldn’t help but peek. “No sure! I’ll wait until you’re done.” He replied, slightly stunned by the Monegasque’s muscular body. He had noticed his biceps before in class, but he was never able to tell the amount of back muscle Charles had built. Pierre looked like a fragile twig compared to him. 

Charles rinsed himself off in the shower cabin and threw a towel over his head when he had finished. Pierre waited patiently and scrolled through his social media feed while sitting on the uncomfortable wooden bench. 

 

Pierre closed the front door and kicked his shoes off in the hallway. His mum hadn’t come home from work yet, so that meant Pierre had some time to himself. She usually worked late and often didn’t come home until 10 pm. He checked the fridge for leftovers and sighed when it was empty. He didn’t feel like making any food but still ended up frying an egg because he was too hungry not to have dinner. 

He grabbed his plate and a fork and hopped down onto the couch. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV for some background noise. He sent Charles the video and anxiously waited for a response. He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear back, but something inside him made him want to see the Monegasque typing in the chat. A green dot appeared next to his profile picture, but the typing bubble never came up before the dot disappeared again. Pierre sighed and rested his head on the armrest, too tired to go upstairs. 

He held his phone to his chest and closed his eyes. He caught himself fantasizing about Charles again, his brain didn’t allow him to think about anything else the last few days. Was this turning into a crush? He certainly hoped it wasn’t, it was solely a recipe for disaster.


	4. Chapter 4

Pierre bent down to tighten the drawstrings on his ballet shoes. He heard footsteps approaching from outside the dressing room before spotting a figure walk in. 

“Hey!” Charles said excitedly. “You’re early.” He added as he dropped his bag down on the bench. 

Pierre nodded. “Yeah, my alarm went off an hour too early so I ran out of stuff to do” He laughed. Charles smiled and changed into his tights and t-shirt. 

“How does that even happen?” He asked.

Pierre shrugged and stretched his arms out above his head. Charles turned around after pulling on his t-shirt and poked Pierre’s exposed armpit. “Ew, sweaty.” He laughed.

Pierre shrieked and quickly dropped his arms. “Yeah, what did you expect?” He asked.

Charles raised an eyebrow and shot a mischievous glance at the Frenchman. “Wait for a second, are you ticklish?” He stepped in closer. Pierre quickly shook his head in distress. Charles showed an evil grin and reached for the older boy’s waist as he started to tickle him. Pierre screamed in response and nearly fell off the small wooden bench. Charles burst out in laughter and stopped tickling him. “Shhhh!!” He covered Pierre’s mouth. “Mrs. Williams will be mad if you make too much noise.” 

Pierre shot him an angry look and smacked the Monegasque’s arm. “I cannot believe you” He laughed, slightly offended at Charles’ words.

“Come on. You gotta hurry if we don’t want to be late.” Charles folded his arms and waited until Pierre got up from the bench.

“I’ll come back at you when you least expect it.” Pierre dared to say. Charles grinned in response.

The boys finished warming up and carried the barres back to the wall from the center of the studio. “Time for jumps, I hope everyone put effort into warming up today or else you can expect a lot of soreness tomorrow morning,” Mrs. Williams said and scrolled through the playlist on her iPod. Everyone made their way into the center before Mrs. Williams started the petit allegro music. 

Pierre lined up behind Charles and tried to copy his movements the best he could. Suddenly Charles gripped onto the barre and clutched his side with his hand tightly. Mrs. Williams noticed but kept the music going and didn’t seem to care at all. Pierre quickly walked over to him and carefully laid his hand on Charles’ shoulder. “What happened, are you okay?” He whispered. Charles took short quick breaths and glanced over at the Frenchman.

“I’m fine, go back to the center before Mrs. Williams kicks you out of the class.” He breathed out. 

“Do you need some water?” Pierre offered and Charles shook his head. He took a deep breath and went back to his assigned position for the petit allegro and resumed the combination. Pierre looked at him confused and finished the exercise as he was told. Charles seemed to completely ignore what just happened and continued the class as usual. 

They moved onto a pas de deux exercise and practiced their lifts. Pierre was a bit nervous at first but his fear of dropping the girl passed quickly as he successfully lifted his partner several times. Charles, however, had more trouble with the lifts. The girl became more frustrated each time and started to raise her voice at him. Mrs. Williams wandered over and confronted the pair. 

“What seems to be the issue here?” She asked.

“Maybe if this fucking idiot got his grip right he’d be able to lift me up!” She said, completely pissed off at the Monegasque. Mrs. Williams asked for them to demonstrate. Charles took a deep breath and performed the lift, but she slipped out of his hands before he could realize. The girl fell face first on the hardwood floor, as the other people in the class gasped and laughed at what happened. Charles’ face flushed in embarrassment. 

“I am so, so sorry” He quickly apologized and offered his hand to the girl to help her get up. Mrs. Williams smacked the boy on the head and shouted at him. 

“You are a disgrace to this studio, if you continue to act messy like this you will bring down the studio’s reputation during your competition tomorrow. If you don’t step it up I’m afraid I’ll have to kick you out of the class.” She snapped.

Charles' face turned pale before he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry Mrs.” He said quietly and retreated to the wooden bench by the wall of the studio. 

After the class, Pierre ran after Charles into the men’s dressing room. “Hey.” He called, trying to get his attention while the younger boy did his best to ignore him. Pierre grabbed his shoulder, causing the Monegasque to turn around. 

“What?” He snapped. Pierre let go in response and stepped back. 

“What’s the matter with you? Are you okay? Why are you ignoring me?” He asked.

Charles sighed and looked down at his feet as he ran his hand through his hair. “Nothing, just an off day I guess.” He lied.

Pierre sighed. “Anything I can do to help? Maybe I can make it better.” He offered.

Charles took off his ballet slippers and shoved them into his bag. “Maybe.”

They undressed into their underwear in silence before going into separate shower cabins. After rinsing the sweat off their bodies they got out and dried themselves off before putting their regular clothes back on. Pierre heard Charles hiss in pain behind him. The Frenchman turned around to see what happened. Charles was struggling to get his hoodie on, but persisted and tried to breathe himself through. 

“Let me help.” Pierre offered.

“No.” The Monegasque replied sharply.

“Please.” Pierre persisted.

Charles sighed and looked away as Pierre carefully pulled the hoodie down his torso. 

“Are you injured?” He asked quietly. Charles swallowed and glanced over his shoulder towards the older boy.

“Yeah.” He breathed out.

“Be gentle with yourself,” Pierre said back, quietly. 

“I’ll try.” The Monegasque responded.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” He asked.

Charles nodded and slipped on his shoes before swinging his back over his shoulder.

“Okay,” Pierre said before Charles left the changing room without saying goodbye.


	5. Chapter 5

Pierre laid on top of his bed, worried about Charles. He didn’t know him that well but he figured that Charles wasn’t one to give up. He rolled onto his left side and faced the corkboard on his wall. He moved some of the pins around to form a smiley face and looked at some of the images and scribbles he had pinned onto the board. His mother never liked it hanging above his bed because of the possibility of the pins coming off and falling onto his face as he was asleep.

He heard his phone buzz from across the room and shot up instantly. _Please let it be Charles_ , he thought. He dug through his smelly dance bag for his phone and quickly unlocked it after reading his name on the screen.

_Charles Lec._  
_“Hey”_  
_“Sorry for acting like that today.”_  
_“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”_

Pierre blushed immensely and felt a smile form on his face. G _od, how could anyone as perfect as Charles exist?_

_Pierre Gas._  
_“Hhhhelllooooo” No, stupid text,_ he thought and held the backspace button on the digital keyboard.  
_“Heyy”_  
_“It’s okay, don’t worry about it! I’m here for you if you need me :-)”_

_Was that weird?_ He thought to himself but shrugged and patiently waited for Charles to start typing again.

_Charles Lec._   
_“I have my competition tomorrow, but it’s a few hours worth of travelling and I don’t feel like going alone. Would you like to accompany me on the journey? :)”_

Pierre shrieked excitedly and quickly typed up his response.

_Pierre Gas._   
_“Of course! What time do we have to leave?”_

_Charles Lec._   
_“I’ll pick you up around 4 am, the bus leaves 4.23. I hope that’s not too early for you?”_

Pierre nearly choked on his own breath, he was going to have to fall asleep within 10 minutes if he wanted to be moderately energized for the next day.

_Pierre Gas._   
_“Sounds like a plan! Do I need to wear something specific or bring anything?”_

_Charles Lec._   
_“Wear whatever you feel comfortable in, I’ll take care of the rest :). See you tomorrow!”_

_Pierre Gas._   
_“Sleep well!”_

_Charles Lec._   
_“Haha. You too”_

 

The next morning, Pierre waited outside on the porch for Charles to arrive. He sat outside a bit too early so his parents wouldn’t have to wake up by the doorbell. He felt exhausted due to the little sleep he had gotten the night before because he was so excited about Charles asking him to come with him. He rested his head against the wooden pole that connected the porch with the roof above his head and slowly felt himself drifting off. _Maybe five more minutes will do the trick…_

 

Pierre woke up by feeling a warm hand touching his shoulder. He opened his eyes and glanced over at the younger boy sitting beside him.

“Did you sleep here all night?” Charles joked.

Pierre smiled and rubbed his eyes. “Good morning.”

“Are you ready to go?” Charles asked and got up from the wooden steps. Pierre nodded and followed him to the bus stop.

“Do you always have to get up this early?” He asked.

Charles shook his head in response and yawned. “For competitions, yes, but other than that I’m happy that I don’t have to wake up at this time.”

The boys waited at the bus stop for the bus to arrive. They climbed inside, scanned their public transport cards and picked their seats. Charles pushed his sports bag in the compartment above them and sat next to the Frenchman.

“You can catch up on some sleep if you want,” Charles said. Pierre shrugged.

“The window isn’t very comfortable to sleep against.” He commented.

“You can use me as a pillow, I don’t mind,” Charles replied.

Pierre hesitated, but gave in and rested his head on the younger boy’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting off again. Charles waited for Pierre to fall asleep before wrapping his arm around the Frenchman and looked out the window as the older boy was sleeping on his shoulder. He was completely wrecked with nerves, but having Pierre around seemed to calm him down quite a bit. He closed his eyes in an attempt to get some extra sleep as well, but his eyes were quickly opened again after he felt the older boy move.

Pierre had woken up from his nap and looked up at Charles, who quickly retreated his arm again. “Are you okay?” Pierre asked the Monegasque, Charles nodded in response.

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “I’m all right, a bit nervous that’s all.” He explained. Pierre sat up straight again and turned his body towards the younger boy.

“There’s no need to be nervous. You’re an amazing dancer and I’m sure you’re going to kill it on that stage.” Pierre tried to reassure him. Charles gave him a half smile and checked his phone for notifications.

“Next stop, Presbytère.” The bus driver announced. The boys got up from their seats and left the bus after Charles had gotten his bag out of the overhead compartment. Charles smiled brightly and took a deep breath while looking at the Théâtre de Beaulieu.

“Wow,” Pierre said. “Have you been here before?” He asked. Charles nodded. “Prix de Lausanne is hosted every year. I’ve competed here since I was 15. It’s my last year, unfortunately.” He replied.

Pierre looked around amazed and followed Charles into the building. The corridors were filled with ballet dancers, both male and female doing either warmups or stretches. “There’s not enough room in the changing rooms so everyone just goes about in the hallways.” Charles smiled. He walked towards an empty spot near a window and dropped his bag down onto the ground. “I’m gonna warm up and do some stretches, both the classical and contemporary variations for my category start in about an hour,” He explained. “I have some food packed inside of my bag if you want something to eat.” He added.

Pierre sat down on the floor and watched as Charles warmed up. He expected Charles to start jogging around, but instead, he watched the Monegasque beautifully perform a plie rond de jambes exercise. After about half an hour the younger boy had finished warming up and moved up to the stretches. Pierre gasped in amazement when he gracefully slid himself down into all different kind of splits.

“Have you eaten something yet?” Charles asked, as he leaned onto his forearms to get a better stretch. “I brought sandwiches,” He added.

“I’m not that hungry,” Pierre tried to reassure him.

 

Charles broke his theatrical smile immediately after leaving the stage when he had finished his performance. He did his best to walk in a straight line towards the exit door and made his way over to Pierre. Everything around him was spinning, what he felt was the worst back pain he ever felt in his life. As soon as he managed to find the Frenchman, he did his best to pretend things were back to normal again.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” Pierre cheered. “You absolutely killed it out there!” He said excitedly. Charles nodded quickly and gave the Frenchman a short smile in response before grasping onto the windowsill. He dropped his head and took short quick breaths.

“Fuck, Charles,” Panic entered Pierre’s voice. “Are you okay? Is it your back?” He asked. Charles nodded and rocked his weight back and forward slightly as he panted through the intense cramping. Pierre was unsure what to. He knew Charles wouldn’t want anyone coming to help, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He hesitated for a few seconds but gave in and moved his hand up onto the Monegasque’s shoulder blade. He made soft circles with his thumb, trying his best to help Charles through it. “Shhhhhh… It’ll be over soon. Breathe through it, long deep breaths,” He tried to help. After a couple of minutes the Monegasque seemed to relax again slightly.

“Sorry about that,” Charles apologized.

“Why are you apologizing?” Pierre asked.

“I don’t want you to feel worried about me,” Charles sighed.

“Please get your back checked out… I’m worried about you,” Pierre said softly. Charles shook his head in response and carefully lowered himself onto the ground, leaning his back against the wall. He reached inside of his bag for a bottle of water and took a large sip.

“Why not?” Pierre asked. “Are you just going to continue being in pain every time you put stress on your back? That’s not what you want, is it?” He added.

“I’m afraid they’ll tell me I’ll never be able to dance again. It would wreck me, it would absolutely wreck me.” Charles sighed and fidgeted with the water bottle cap.

_Seeing you in pain like that wrecks me._ Pierre thought. He sighed and bit the inside of his cheek. “I get it, but you can’t keep walking around in pain like that.” He replied.

Charles shrugged. “It’s not that bad.”

 

After they announced the winners Charles was completely bummed out. He was extremely disappointed in himself for getting a 6th place at the last time competing in Prix de Lausanne. He’d never get the chance to score higher ever again. The two boys climbed into the bus seats and began the long journey home. Charles was completely exhausted. He did his best to stay awake but fell asleep against Pierre’s shoulder against his own iron will. Pierre had gotten hungrier in the meantime. He hadn’t eaten all day but didn’t want Charles to feel like he made Pierre’s sandwich for nothing. Pierre hesitated but ended up shoving the plastic bag with the sandwich underneath the bus seat. Charles didn’t have to know.

The bus driver stopped at the stop close to their homes. Pierre had woken up the Monegasque when they neared the stop. He got up from his seat first to grab Charles’ bag for him. He waited for Charles to get out of his seat before leaving but the Monegasque struggled to get up by himself. He furrowed his eyebrows and closed his eyes tightly as he tried to collect the strength to push himself up from the seat. Pierre immediately wrapped his arm around Charles’ back to support him and helped him out of the bus.

“I’m not going to let you go home by yourself like that. Which way is it?” Pierre asked.

Charles shook his head. “Stop it, I’m fine. I can walk home by myself.” He tried to convince the Frenchman, even though he knew he couldn’t.

“Stop pretending you’re not in pain Charles,” Pierre said coldly. “This way isn’t it?” He nudged over in the right direction. Charles nodded and let Pierre walk him home. When they arrived at his house Charles grabbed the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Pierre helped him inside and closed the door behind them. He guided the Monegasque to the couch and helped him lay down on his stomach. Charles groaned in pain, worrying Pierre even more.

“Can I do anything to help?” Pierre asked quietly. Charles finally gave in and asked for him to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Pierre sprinted over to the kitchen and looked inside the freezer for an ice pack. He took it out and wrapped it in a towel before taking it back to the couch where the Monegasque was laying. Pierre sat down on his knees beside the couch and carefully lifted the Monegasque’s shirt up slightly to reveal the spasming muscle underneath.

“Gonna be cold,” Pierre warned him before carefully placing the ice pack on top. “I hope it helps.” He then said softly. He reached over to grab one of the blankets neatly folded and tucked underneath the coffee table and gently laid it on top of the younger boy. He untied Charles’ trainers and took them off of him before joining him on the other end of the couch. Charles rested his head on the Frenchman’s lap as he tried to breathe through the intense amount of pain he was going through. Maybe he did like having someone around.

Pierre softly ran his fingers through the Monegasque’s soft chocolate hair to comfort him and played with it gently until he was absolutely certain the younger boy had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you! Thanks for taking time out of your day to read this. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. If you look up the Prix de Lausanne 2018 finals video on YouTube and skip to 2:45 you can watch the classical variation Charles performed. Thanks for sticking around this far! Reading your comments really makes my day!


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